Feels like Home
by deardiaries
Summary: Sequel to "Rick's Posse" The Woodbury people are settled, maybe a little too settled for Siren's tastes. And now there's that weird guy who stalks her... the blonde with glasses. Her world keeps circling the drain and her dead boyfriend's voice still haunts her. Somewhere in chaos she seems to find her inner teenager, learning how to sneak out of a prison and lie to a red-neck.
1. We The People Are Dead All Over

**Soooo…. This is part two of Rick's Posse, no longer following the storyline and Milton is also still alive for reasons unknown…. **

**Still in the mind of Siren, my OC if you haven't read Rick's Posse. A lot more nightmares, more deaths, more Siren/Carl crime action, thinking about doing some Siren/Tobias flashbacks, uhh and pretty much torture my character like the last story. **

….

The new pink skin ran down from the edge of my eye to the base of my jaw, it was a constant reminder of what I did and what I couldn't do. Nothing more than a jagged scar across a girl's face.

….

"_Tobias! Tobias!" _

"_Its okay baby… I'm here." Arms cradled me, I sigh, safe finally. _

"_Good I thought you were going to leave me again." _

"_No sweetie… never again." _

I shake myself away, tears built up in my eyes. "Carl," I say after crawling out from the blankets and into his cell. "Wake up," I whisper hoarsely. He grunts, lifting his blanket without showing me his quarter sized blue eyes. I lay down close to his chest, one of his small arms wrap around me and I feel safe enough not to sob into my hands.

The Governor was not dead. Instead, we took his entire population of people, allowing them into our open arms. At first, I thought it was a beautiful idea, we were gathering the humanity I thought we had lost a long time ago. But now I can hardly sleep without thinking of them turning on us. Even though they were old and brittle, there are a lot of them, and we just _let _them into our cells, let them have our food, shelter and love without the need for thanks.

I close my eyes, trying to maintain sanity and keep my thoughts from ripping me apart. Knowing myself, it doesn't take long before my mind wonders again. To the old and young. To my dream. To Tobias. A painful lump in my throat hardens and secretly I let a tear fall before falling back into darkness.

…..

The sun lightly scraps my face, black curls tickling my cheeks. I yawn, stretching my arm expecting to hit a sleeping Carl. Instead, my arm falls flat on an empty, cold mattress. I groan, rolling on my back and staring at the rusted springs.

I can already hear the quite murmur of the Woodbury newbies. The old women are talking about yarn and skin problems, the men the same thing, only instead of yarn, bird adaptation. None of the old people are nice. Not the bakin' some cookies type elderlies; they were the, grumpy, stay off my mother friggin' lawn, type. Most of them hate me anyways… the feeling is shared. Then we have those ungrateful, snotty, messy kids. Kinda all fat if you ask me, and very needy. And I used to love kids! What happened? See what they did?

Rick says I'm being harsh on them. That they have just entered this new world of death and violence. Says I need to be more supportive. When he turned around, I flipped him off….

"Siren," a cool voice asked emotionlessly. It was a deep, calming voice of Tyrese, a man that has apparently been here before. I peeked up at him. One buff arm leaned against the door frame, the other clutching a rifle.

"Whatcha need," I say, yawning in the middle of the sentence.

"Actually Rick is the one that needs you. Says he needs to discuss what happened with The Governor and you."

I frown, dreading this conversation for a month. I decide to play it cool… avoid the subject. "Since when are you Rick's errand boy, isn't that Daryl's job?" I gulp knowing I'd regret saying that later. Tyrese doesn't reply, only gives me a scowl and struts away.

Rick wants to talk about what happened in the tombs. Usually I'd be able to wiggle my way out of something like this but when you have a scar across your face as a constant reminder to the world what happened it gets hard. I kick the blankets off, rubbing my eyes and not bothering to change out of the boxers and baggy AC/DC shirt.

"Morning Carol," I wave shyly when I see Carol cradling the small human.

"It's actually the middle of the afternoon," snapped the frail woman in an irritated voice. "Maybe if you didn't stay up all night playing poker with Maggie and Glenn you could've woken up at an appropriate time."

I scratch the back of my head. "Yeah well," I shrug, rolling my eyes and walking down the end of the catwalk. I jump onto the railing of the stairs, sliding down the metal rails, cause I'm just that cool. I cock an eyebrow at the group of kids at the end. "Don't try that at home kids."

"I've seen better," a girl with blonde curls and bright red lips snickers, chewing on a chunk of jerky. Her name was Sally, she was basically the leader of the children mafia here. A real bitch if you know what I mean.

I glare at her. "You seen Rick around here? Or are you too busy wishing you were back under that crazy maniacs rule? I mean at least there was hot water there!"

"He's in his special place," a small, mousy voice answers as Sally glares at me. Don't give me crap cause I don't know all their names. There is a _lot _of them okay. So what if I don't know _one_ little name.

I nod and walk past the children mafia squad, slipping into a pair of combat boots by the door before going outside.

God I hate Georgia. Too freaking sunny. The sun stabbed my pupils, purposely making me wince and shield my eyes. I fond Rick at the top of one of the towers. The Love Shake had been brutally burned by one of The Governor's henchmen, but we still had the one.

"Hey Rick you wanted me," I shout up when I get closer. He pulls the binoculars from his eyes, staring me down with those blue eyes.

"Yeah come 'ere," his voice is raspy and hard, I gulp and know he's in one of his moods. The entire way up the stairs, I can feel my heart racing. My stomach goes in knots. I finally reach the top, wind blowing through me and slapping my bare legs.

Rick grips the railing tightly, causing the tips of his knuckles to turn pasty white. "Tyrese said you wanted to talk about what happened last month?"

He doesn't look at me. Maybe hiding disappointment or anger, both scare me half to death. Finally, he turns his head, the blue eyes ice cold and demanding. It was anger. "You still having those nightmares?"

"What…" my body became stiff, heart racing a hundred miles an hour. "… I…."

"Do you still hear him Siren?" Rick's eyes lock onto mine, holding me in place. "Tobias?"

I don't answer. My heart sinks to my stomach heavily, then shatters.

"Last month you proved to me all I was worried about. Stupidity got the best of you and you just about ruined everything."

Tears build at the bottom of my eyes. "…I'm—"

"Save it Siren," Rick turns away from me again, staring off into space and a scowl on his face. "Fall is coming to an end… we have… another two months or so before it starts to snow, and I don't know how much food and supplies we're going to need for all these people. Last winter was one of the hardest."

I cross my arms, shivering and trying to wipe away tears. "What do you suppose we do?"

"Supply runs… a lot more of them. I need to know you aren't going to pull what you did last month. You need to oboe orders like lives depend on it—because they do." He looks at me, his blue eyes softer, eyebrows arched.

"Yeah," I say with my purple lips trembling.

"You can drive right?"

I chuckle, driving hasn't been on my mind since I was a fresh, not-so-innocent fifteen year old girl, daydreaming about cross-country travel. "Nope, but I'm sure one of those prehistoric newbies will still know."

His lips remain in a straight, unmoving line. "I'll get someone on that, until then think of some people to go with you, Daryl and Tyrese are off-limits, I need them here. Carl…" Rick sighs, him and Carl haven't exactly seen eye to eye lately, "Carl is to stay here also." I nod, excited and frightened with the idea of venturing off. "I've already spoken to Maggie and Glenn about it, maybe you guys can just have a three-sum."

I burst into immature laughter, it only shows by Rick's blank, confused face how old he really is. "I'm sorry," I say with a cheap grin, trying to withhold more laughter. "That sounds great… really. I'll try and convince one of them to teach me how to drive."

Rick nods, staring off into space again. I'm giggling all the way down the stairs until I get to the end and walk back outside.

…

"No! No! No! This is all wrong!" An old woman from Woodbury throws the oatmeal at my head.

"Jesus Crist woman!" She could have killed me with the way she threw. Oatmeal slugged down the wall, the orange plastic bowl falling to the floor empty.

"You watch your pretty mouth girl," she warns with her wrinkly, long finger. Her name was Cynthia, she had yellowing teeth, stark white hair and blood-shot blue eyes. She crosses her flabby arms angrily.

"Well I'm sorry I don't make instant oatmeal as good as Beth does! But you just wasted a perfectly good meal! There are dead kids in Africa because there isn't enough food!"

"There're dead kid all over the world," she snickers, scrunching her nose, "its just too bad you aren't."

"Ugh! Why are you being so difficult! The baby eats better than you do!" I try and scrape the oatmeal off the wall with a bent metal spoon, cursing under my breath.

"I'll wash your mouth out with soap girlie! Shut your face and take me back to my room!" I didn't doubt she would wash my mouth out, but she was condemned to a wheel chair and probably wouldn't get too far. I reluctantly roll her to her cell, glaring at her as I leave the cell, debating whether to lock her away.


	2. You Bastard, I Love You

"Hey Tyrese," I strut down the muddy hill on the greyish drab fall morning. Tyrese leans against the fence, his eyes alert and ready.

"What's up Scar," he snickers. It was some cruel nick name I think Carl started. Like from the lion in Lion King… the one with the scar—whatever you get it.

"Oh hahaha fuck you Tyrese," I give him a fake, like super fake grin and glare. "You in for a little poker tonight? Maybe for the good stuff?"

"Jesus kid, didn't you smoke Glenn and Maggie last night? With that rep I don't know how much I got you'd want."

My father taught me the way of the cards. It was funny really. My father, a poker player? One of the best actually. Well to a nine year old at least.

He was a softy if anything. Cared too much and didn't find enough words to exactly fit was he was trying to say. But poker was the way we bonded.

I shrug, don't want to be getting full of myself. "I got a thing for that machine gun you keep hidden under your bed…."

He smacks his lips, looking deeply at me as if trying to get past the barrier I worked so hard on. "For a story?"

"What kind of backwards ass barging is that? What is you want to know?" I adjust myself so I lean on my hip, trying to ignore the piece of hair that still has dried oatmeal in it. That damn woman.

He stares off into the vast land that is covered in dead yellowing grass. His eyes flicker back on my face, "I want to know your story, people here say your…." Awesome? Annoying? Strange? Stubborn? A waste of space? "Dignified."

_Pfff_, Dignified. Right. "Then you gotta deal, we meet here around," I look into the cloud covered sky, trying to find the sun that is directly in the center of the sky. "When the sun touches the tree line."

He nods, going back on doing whatever it is people do when on watch. I don't know since whenever Rick tells me to I hide out in the generator room for a while. The place I got high with Merle, which now that I think about was the last time I saw him….

….

"Siren take Judith please," Carol hands me the ball of warmth, and I awkwardly hold her, trying to maintain myself from freaking out. She is just so freaking cute. Little golden brown eyes, a squishy little triangle nose, soft skin, and scarlet red lips. Her eyes fill with water and wails escape her O shaped mouth.

Carol tries to tend to the other six kids who gather around. All those chubby Woodbury kids. Yuck. "I am so hungry," one whines. Others bicker in agreement.

"Okay, okay hang on," Carol begs, trying to scavenge in the supply room in the cafeteria.

I hear light, airy footsteps behind me and a blonde with blue eyes confronts me. "I can take her," Beth says in a rather protective voice.

"Oh its okay," I reply, cooing the child that has stopped wailing.

Beth's eyes widen and she extends her arms. "Hand her over Siren."

I frown, confused. Lately I know the friendship that was building burned into ash, but seriously, I can't hold the baby? "Beth it's fine really, maybe you should take a break."

"No! Your crazy, hand her over!"

A ice cold lump formed in my chest, tears started to rise from the base of my eyes and suddenly all dozen eyes in the room lock on me. _Crazy? _Is that what she said? Was it true? Am I crazy? Beth's arms slid through mine and takes away the warmth and innocence from my arms.

"Beth!" Carol exclaims with a shocked high-pitched voice. Three children hang on her arms.

"You can't say you weren't thinking it," the southern drawl in her voice sprung out. "_Everyone _was, even Rick." That's when hot tears start to topple down my cheeks, falling in the large crevasse I'm nicknamed for.

I turn around without a word, running wherever my feet are taking me. I don't really know. But I end up in the warm generator room, tears trickling continuously. "We don't need them," I say, pacing the floor with my throat burning and the need to cry. "We don't need them."

_Siren, _a voice says in a calm voice. _But you do need them, you do._

"But Tobias," I shout, sliding down the wall as salty tears fill my mouth. "I can't… I can't…."

_Shut up yes you can. _

"You bastard I love you," I say as my lips tremble and my heart does summer salts. "I can't do it without you." I find the 4 necklace buried beneath layers of cloths, clutching it until my palm starts to bleed. After a while of silence between the both of us, I ask in a soft voice that still shakes with sadness, "am I really crazy Four?"

_Beth doesn't know what the hell she's talking about babe. She doesn't know what you've gone through, what you've seen. _

"Yeah," I agree, resting my head against the cement wall, my brain throbbing and letting my heavy eyelids get the best of me.

….

"_There doesn't have to be blood shed anymore then there already has, you've seen it out there, people are dying." Dead. Not dying, dead. "If you can tell me where their group is, I can have Merle release them and get his brother back to him, and you and the boy can stay… if you wish." _

_I am sad suddenly, I don't really know where the prison is, and seeing the electricity and clean people makes my stomach knot up. Then I see his face again, wicked hiding as tranquility. "I'm sorry," I say as simple as possible, "I can't, I don't know where it is." It isn't completely true, I saw the outlining of several mile signs through the stitching of the blind fold, and I know it is fourteen miles from the plaza of buildings. _

_His face is solemn, his eyes cold. He inhales deeply through his nose, looking out the window with the shades slightly opened, and his hand comes crashing down on the table. Slam! I jump ten feet out of my skin, my bones rattled around. His eyes were vicious and hungry for information I couldn't give him. "You lying! I can see it in your eyes! Tell me!" _

_No, no please I'm not. My heart races, the sweat starting to build up again. Is it that obvious? "No, I really don't, look," I pull up my shirt and show him the stitches, a trickle of blood oozing out, hot and stick down my side, "I was only there to get patched up, I don't know where it is." My face feels hot under his burning eyes. _

"_I don't believe you," he says, "and for that your friends will pay dearly." _

….

"I'm sorry Tobias!" I shout, waking myself and wiping the cool sweat from my forehead. My body still trembles and my throat is still raw from crying. "God I'm so sorry," I roll onto my knees, crawling around while tears poured and rocks lodged into my palms. "It was _all _my fault…."

I sob onto the dirty ground, my tears creating miniature mud puddles.

_Feelin' all alone without a friend you know you feel like dyin'. _

"What?" Was that what I thought it was?

_Oh didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you crying? _

I smile, laughing through tears at Four's imitation on Cheap Trick, man I loved that band back in the day, you know when dead people didn't try and bite people.

_I want you to want me. I need you need me…. _

"Okay, okay I get it," I say wiping away tears. "Your so off key it isn't even funny." I laugh, rolling onto my back and sighing. "You think we'd get married or something?"

_What? _

"Well Maggie and Glenn are married, he just gave her a wedding ring, but there married. You think we'd ever do something like that… like a few years later or something?"

_Will you marry me? _

A tear rolls down my check, slow and wet. "But your dead." I sniffle, "and not even here, you're in my head…." I close my eyes, "maybe I am going crazy."

_Do you want me to leave? _

"No."


	3. The Blonde Harry Potter

I had decided to skip my poker game, just stayed in the moist, mold arousing generator room, listening to Four try and sing to me. His voice was completely off-key, it rocked in high and lows, it creaked, but I loved it. He sang me to sleep that night.

….

_Knock. Knock. _I groaned, rubbing my eyes with a stretch. Pieces of my trash mountain roll down. _Knock. Knock. _"Eh, go away."

The door opens with a dry, dusty creak anyways. My eyes skimmed from the ground up. Muddy black leather shoes. Tattered blue jeans, black thin belt with a holster. Tucked in brownish shirt, sleeves rolled up. Face unusually clean, actually the cleanest I have ever seen it. _Rick. _

"What…?" I try and ignore my cracking voice. My eyes burn from the obvious tears earlier.

An eyebrow rises, and he leans against the door frame, crossing his arms against his chest. "Carol told me what happened."

"So," I snap stubbornly, crossing my own arms and smacking my back against the wall. My eyes find a piece of trash on the ground.

"Well _Beth _was mistaken about what she said." He practically spit her name. "You're not crazy, and none of us think that."

"Apparently she does," I kick my foot against the cement.

My eyes flicker to his face. His blue eyes are skimming me, head to toe. "How long has it been since you've eaten?"

Crap. Now I was in for it. God, I don't even remember last time I eat. Yesterday? This morning? Two days ago? Might have been three. "Um… I think two or three days ago, but it's okay really, I'm just not all that hungry."

His crystal blue eyes roll and he steps forward, latching on to my elbow and lifting me off the rubble.

"Hey I was kinda sleeping," I groan, rubbing my eyes and yawning.

Rick's eyes flashed around the generator room for a split second, then burned into mine. "Don't come into here anymore."

"What? Why…? I like it here."

"Cause I said so kid, stay were someone can see you or easily find you."

"Rick I can handle myself!" I jerk from his grip.

Rick does his signature grab the bridge of his nose, and grouchily sigh, closing his eyes tightly.

"Don't sigh at me," I snicker, crossing my arms.

"It's time for dinner, we can _talk _about this later."

"Rick," I hissed, "I don't want to talk about this later, I like it here, I'll come here if I want to." I am stubborn, I get it from my mother. I adjust my hands over my hips as Rick throws me a glare that make his eyes singe mine. "Fine," I mutter, my eyes flickering to the ground, "what's for dinner?"

….

Dinner was silent, all that echoed in the dusty prison was the clanking of silverware. Beth sat directly across the room from me, her blue eyes digging into my face and fork sticking straight up. Glenn and Maggie sat next to her, their hands twined on the table. Hershel on the other side of the evil blonde. The next table over was Daryl and Carol, the Ass Kicker box resting on the floor by her. All the other tables were filled with the Woodbury people and Rick sat with Tyrese and his sister, Michonne was out on watch. That left me and Carl at the end table, picking at the canned green beans and powered milk.

"You weren't at the poker game," Carl says, scrunching his face as he sips his powdered milk from a bend up peach can.

"Yeah…" I push around my food, trying to convince Rick I've been eating. "I wasn't feeling up to it."

Carl sighed, "Maggie told me what happened—what Beth said." He shook around his shaggy brown hair, "it isn't true Scar, really. Beth didn't mean nothin' by it."

I give him one of my cheap smiles, "Officer Friendly already beat you to it Carl. And I'm pretty sure Beth has wanted to get that out for a while," my eyes flicker to Beth across the room, our eyes lock, demanding each other.

"She isn't going to be happy about this."

"About what?"

Carl slyly looked over his shoulder, crouching in the table close to me. "I've chosen you over her, it's a _girl _thing, apparently by sitting here I am betraying her."

"Whooped-dido that's just great, she can suck it." Carl leaned out, taking another bite of green beans.

"Another thing," Carl whispers in a rough voice, leaning closer again, I can smell the canned vegetables on his breath. "See the Woodbury guy in the glasses?" His blue eyes gesture behind him, towards the table in the corner. The empty one.

A man in a plaid red dress shirt, tan slacks, combed blonde hair and round Harry Potter glasses sat with a little notebook, scribbling with a dull pencil on the pages. I had seen him before… he was at The Governor Meet. Michael was it? Mitchel? No Milton, it was definitely Milton. "Yeah I see 'em, why you whispering?"

"He's been following you Scarface," I make a sour face at him, Scarface was a new one. "This is serious, he's been watching you… I think he's working for The Governor."

"Relax," I roll my eyes, but in the pit of my stomach a twisting twinge goes through, fear. "I'll get his back story, clear his name got it? He just doesn't seem like the type."

"You want me to come with you?"

Oh, this was great, first Rick now Carl? Like father like son I guess. "I can handle myself, what is it with you Grimes and thinking I can't?"

He shrugs, taking another regretful swig of powdered milk.

….

The prison fell silent, as it did every night. The fence rattled with wind and snores echoed lightly. Some people are still up, Rick and Daryl are down stairs, bickering about supplies again. Tyrese is on his shift with his sister. I tip toe past Maggie and Glenn's cell, Maggie has and arm slung over his body, his face squished into the pillow.

The stairs are the hardest to conquer, every third step they creek. I creep down the stairs, avoiding the ones I know squeak. Finally, I get the bottom, a candle light sketching Milton's room. I sneak by, peering into his cell. He has a simple duffle bag in the corner, the candle stick on the shelf. He sleeps on his back, blankets neatly over his body.

An edge of his prized notebook peeks out from under his pillow. I slink inside, the candle flickering, shadowing one side of my face. Carefully, I kneel down beside his face, trying to bring my hands under the pillow. My body trembled and voice quivered, thoughts became numbed.

_Don't mess up Siren!_

I fall flat, allowing my hands to catch me from bashing my skull into his bed frame. "Screw you!"

_Ehhh. Would be kinda hard to do…. _

Milton smacked his lips dryly, eyes staying closed. I sigh, relieved. "Talk later," my heart races as I hear the familiar voices of Rick and Daryl, the petrifying squeal of the door.

"Oughta talk to the rest of 'em as well."

Crap. Crap. Shit. Why me? Oh man…. I panic, my heart punching me and a hot trickle of sweat skidding down my back, footsteps looming closer. I crawl under Milton's bed, waiting and watching as two pairs of feet shuffle by.

Sighing, I crawl out on my belly, flinching the notebook and flipping the pages. Tears swell, my heart throbs vigorously against my chest, because all that is written in this book is

Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias. Tobias.

I toss the book and run to the generator room.


	4. Beaten Barbie Doll

"Damn it Siren," a voice screeches walking me up from a night of tears and terrors. I open my eyes, stray tears seeping down my cheeks. Angry blue eyes stare down at me.

"I'm sorry Rick…" tears start to build up again in the utter confusion and fast spinning head. What the hell did Milton know? How could, why…? Ugh.

His face tugs into a frown. "Get up."

Shaking with tears streaming down my face, I stand on my feet, wobbling like jello. "That guy… the guy with the glasses—Milton—he, he…." My grey dull eyes find the lively yet tired blue ones, "I have to go… when can I go with a group to scavenge…?"

Rick puts his hands on his waist, staring at the grey wall splattered with blood.

"_Please_," eeww, I that tasted foul. My nose scrunches in disgust.

"Tomorrow, you're going with Daryl and Michonne…. Did this guy hurt you?"

I shake my head fast, wanting him to leave before tears started up again. Rick has seen me cry more than I would like. I'm such a baby. "I thought Daryl was off limits, he's too important to be out."

Rick inhales deeply, shrugging with his lips pulling upward in a faint smile. "He thought it would be best if you two got some quality time together."

"Really?"

"No Daryl just hates the Woodbury people as much as you do."

I nervously smile, or try to, "what… no… I don't… _hate… _them…." Was it that obvious?

"Pull yourself together and get out there," Rick orders, walking out of the generator room after glancing around the room dreadfully.

I sit, panting into my hands. "What do I do Tobias? Help a buddy out."

_I'm a figment of your imagination. I'm only going to tell you what you want to hear, what your already thinking now. _

"God, I'm just asking for a little help… is that so hard to ask?" I scowl at the floor, "if I know tell me Four… what am I thinking?"

_You want to kill that guy Milton. He is a threat. He knows something everyone else doesn't. He knows about me. _

….

I find Carl in his cell, laying on his back playing with a gun. The magazine clicks and unclicks in the gun. "Hey," I let myself fall onto his bed, making Carl flinch a moment.

Without looking to see who it was, Carl says gruffly, "you find anything Scarface?"

I lean against his wall, bringing my knees into my chest and letting my breathing become heavy and unsteady.

"Dude what's your problem," Carl sits up, tucking his gun above his head, binding it by the rusty springs.

"Do you… know anything on that guy, you know… Milton?"

"I got some stuff last night before you bailed on me," his blue eyes flinched towards the ground, almost as if he was hurt.

"Yeah well spit it out," I mutter as my eyes shift around the dark, deserted room.

Carl's tongue wets his dry, cracking pink lips and says in a hoarse whisper, "that guy is insane. The Governor made him do stuff…. Like kill Andrea, she turned into a walker and he had to bash her head in with a pair of pliers, nearly lost both his eyes in the process. Now he's just kinda loopy, talks to himself…." His eyes flash to me when he said, "_talks to himself._"

I debate in my head whether to tell Carl about the notebook. So instead I tell Carl that I'm leaving with Daryl and Michonne in the morning. He glares at me, laying back down a fiddling with his gun.

…..

"Hey little ass kicker," I hold the warmth once again, Beth is sleeping, giving me the perfect opportunity. The ball of pink cotton smiles at me, her tongue and gums the only thing in her toothless mouth. Judith's dark hair stood out in places, her eyes bright and vivid.

"You got the 'er," asks Carol, looking in the foggy mirror on her cell wall. A long finger twists in her hair.

"Yeah," I say with a smile, "it's funny, I actually feel happy for once." I bounce the little girl in my arms, her brown, almost caramel colored eyes glint, staring deeply into my dull grey ones.

Carol spins on her tennis shoes, smiling at me, "you watch her for a minute? I have to go have words with Rick and Daryl."

That's when I think, yeah _words_. "Yeah sure," I grin, staring back down at the goo-goo-ing baby. Carol quietly disappears out of her cell, leaving me with the rosy cheek, glassy eyed baby girl. "Aren't you just the cutest," I ask Judith in a high pitched squeal. The baby smiles, blinking slowly.

"What are you doing," a demanding voice shrieked, I peered up, Beth. Her pale, ghost white face beamed, her blue eyes trying to control me. As if I'm her's to play with. Just like The Governor.

"I'm holding a baby," I matter-of-factly snap, not giving her the acknowledgement she wants.

"You put her down," her voice quivers ever so slightly, a long finger points at me.

"You gonna make me?"

Beth stepped into the cell, standing so close I could smell the light rain dotting her cloths. "I don't want your _filth _near her." Beth spit at my shoes, her nose scrunched in pure disgust. "That child is the only thing good in this world, and I'm not going to let you ruin it! Now hand her over."

I stand from the bed, the baby cradled in my arms, her eyes becoming heavy, as if our argument was putting her to sleep. "How dare you—I am trying so hard not to break your little neck, give me some fucking credibility Beth. I will hold this baby, and I will cherish her, you can't take that joy away from me, you don't have the right."

My eyes flicker down the fists she has balled up, then drift to her eyes, daring her to do it. "I'm gonna tell yah again, _please _hand me that baby."

I tilt my head, smiling her, mocking her. "Oh deary I just can't," I mimic her southern drawl, sliding my weight on to one hip and grinning from one cheek to the other. That's when her fist connects with my nose. "Son of a bitch," I screech as blood trickles down my face and into my mouth. Beth is rocking Judith back and forth, rubbing it in my face. My face feels hot, red and burning, rage pulsing through my veins and compelling my hands to clench.

My arm swings and pelts her in the jaw, she cries out, diving towards the ground with the baby. Judith wails as she crashes on the concrete floor. "Your insane," Beth clutches her jaw, tears streaking both sides of her face. I scoop up Judith, cooing her and trying to get the crying to stop.

"HEY WHAT HELL ARE YA'LL DOIN' IN HERE," Maggie rushes to her sister's side, cupping Beth's face. Maggie stands up, taking the baby from my arms and glaring at me. "What the hell's goin' on—where's Carol—what happened to your face?"

"She's crazy," Beth sobs, huffing and gasping onto her feet. "I don't trust her with Judith," she explains as tears drench her ruffled blouse.

"Oh my God what's going on?" Glenn. Of course. He touches the baseline of Beth's jaw with a concerned expression, "what the hell happened?"

"Beth punched me in my nose… and she spit on me," I say, setting my nose with a pain full click. That was the second time I've broken my nose.

"Is that true," Maggie asks Beth in disbelief, "Glenn go get Rick," she orders before she gets an answer. Glenn runs and Beth lets her eyes sink to the floor. "Perfect," Maggie mumbles, curing under her breath and rocking the baby.

I hear the Woodbury oldies and the children mafia bickering and cursing, wondering around. Glenn comes in moments later, accompanied by both Daryl and Rick. "What's going on?"

I sit on the bed, tilting my head back and trying to stop the rapid bleeding. Rick steps in, looking at Beth, then at me and letting his eyes stay on me.

"What happened," Rick kneels down, so he's eye level with me. I've seen him do this with Carl, now it just feels demeaning and manhandled when he does it to me. But it still makes my bones lock in place and my heart start to pump a little faster than usual.

"Beth hit me. And I hit back."

Rick sighs, slamming his eyelids closed and rubbing them with his thumb. "You need to go," he lets his arms drop. "Daryl how long before you can take her?"

"I'm ready when Michonne is," Daryl roughly answers, leaning against the doorframe and staring at the ground.

Rick nods, staring at me with utter disappointment. He stands turning away and something inside me makes me reach out and grab his hand, stopping him from leaving.

His head turns and looks down on me as the others start to leave Carol's cell. "Don't be mad…. Why do you even care enough to be mad, ugh, I hate it? Just stop, if you want me gone for real just say so, but don't be mad."

His stern scowl lightens up, but his blue eyes stay rock solid and in a glare. "Aim a little higher next time."

His hand pulls free and his gone from the cell, leaving me with a growing smile and the feeling of being safe and protected warming me up. Because there will always be deaths, and Governors, but I'll always have Rick and Carl.


	5. Let Out for Bad Behavior

**Sorry! I'm a horrible person yes I know. It's been over a month since I've updated, I deserve an angry mob to throw rocks at me… (pebbles preferably but you get it). Promise to update within a tiny-tinny time frame next time. **

Glares were thrown my way, as well as another bowl of oatmeal from my _favorite _old woman. Carl completely shunned me, Beth is, well Beth. Daryl is freaking scary and Rick won't let me leave without a jacket. That's the full summary of my dilemma. Oh and the little voice inside my head is on full blast, apparently he isn't too happy about me leaving.

_What the fuck Siren! I died to protect you and your running off with what's-his-face and the freaky woman with the sword? _

I wince at the pain against my skull. His voice burns like a bitch. "Tone it down will you? And I trust both of them."

_No you don't. When will you learn? I'm in your head Sirenity! I know what you think, how you feel, what you're doing. _

"I know I'm safe got it, now shut up I have to get ready," I snap, continuing to shove pairs of jeans into a duffle bag. I yank a little red switch blade from the front pocket, opening the six inch blade and pressing the sharp edge against my index finger.

_What are you doing? _His voice sends another stab of pain in my head.

Red spurts from the slit on my finger. No pain. Nothing. Numb. I noticed it when Beth punched me, I knew she broke my nose, and I could feel the blood, heard the crack, but it didn't hurt. It's like the only physical pain I feel is when Tobias is talking to me. A ball of blood builds, twirling down my index finger.

_Why would you do that? _Ouch. Again with the throbbing pain.

"I thought you knew everything about me," I smirk, pulling the edge of the blade from my finger and folding it back. I stick it in my front pocket of my jeans.

"I ain't got all day," Daryl drawls from downstairs, that's probably the most he's ever spoken to me. I picture him now, leaning against the wall, crossbow in hand, poncho over his shoulders, eyes fixed on the stairs and anticipation eating him alive.

I throw on a red hoody, already stained with blood and smudged with dirt, zipping it up to the collar and covering my dark hair with the hood. Chucking the duffle bag over my shoulder, doing a three sixty around my cell to make sure I have everything. God I wish I could bring the bed, I've just got it exactly how I like.

_Be careful around those people. Alright? _

I hop down the steps, Michonne and Daryl waiting for me. Rick is also among them, hands shoved in his pockets awkwardly. "Fine," I mutter to Four's annoying voice. "Ready to go," I bounce on the balls of my feet excitingly.

"For two hours we've been ready," Michonne coolly replies, her katana sticking out from behind her back.

_Wow. Look who had a bowl of bitchy for breakfast Siren. Better head back to the generator room, it seems as if they don't want us with them. _

I smash my hand against my forehead, pinching my eyes closed and groaning. The pain has gotten a lot worse. "No," I think aloud, my eyes fluttering open to see three pairs of puzzled eyes on me. "Pounding headache," I weakly smile, but I can feel Rick's persistent, worried eyes on me. "Let's go."

….

There was no goodbye party. I got a head nod from Tyrese and that was about it. We didn't take the Honda like I thought, instead we took this baby blue, old pickup truck that smelt heavily of exhaust and gasoline. I threw my duffle bag in the bed of the truck and decided to crawl in there myself on a mountain of guns and bags.

Daryl drove, Michonne sat silently in the front seat, not that I could hear them if they were talking. The sun was at it's fullest by the time we hit the empty highway that Tobias and I were going to ride out of Georgia all those months ago. The engine roared and grumbled underneath me, the wind blowing my hair in my face as I laid in the back, with my head propped up with my bag.

_Are we going to talk about the fact that creepy Harry Potter guy had my name in his journal? _

"I told you," I whispered, peeking around the corner into the window to see Daryl staring out at the road and Michonne looking out the passenger window. "He's crazy, he probably just heard someone say your name and wrote it down a bunch of times."

_Please don't get too close to these people. I don't know how long you're going to be with them. _

I had to press my head against the coolness of the truck to hear him clearly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean Tobias?"

_It means, I don't know how protected you are there. _

"I'm safe, that's all you have to worry about, now _please _be quiet. Every time you speak it's like someone is electrocuting my brain. I close my eyes, listening to the wind whistle in my ears and eventually fall asleep.

I wake up to the sound of doors slamming. The truck stopped and it takes a few seconds for the reek of decaying bodies to hit my nose. My tired eyes flicker around, burnt bodies stacked upon more burnt bodies upon more burnt bodies. Ravens circled around in the gloomy, grey town.

"Where are we," I wiggle to my feet, hopping out of the truck. It's obviously a town. A small one where everyone probably knew everyone. Where kids would ride their bikes to the small movie theater around the corner. Now everyone who ever lived here is in that pile, bikes are scattered along with cars that still have their doors wide open.

"Plains, Georgia, home of our 39th president," Michonne reads from the green sign just a few yards away. I rub my eyes, seeing in a tired blur over my eyes.

I sigh, "okay then, let's get started." I pull a rifle free from the small pile, slinging it over my shoulder as we begin our walk into the city and search for supplies.


End file.
